Book 3: Chapter 142 (1/2)

Sera flew through the air, carrying a bundle of logs tied together by a rope. Behind her, Vernon was holding a mithril jar. The two dragons soared through some clouds, their vision obscured by white. When they broke through, a scaly, red face greeted them.

“Woah!” Prika shouted and swerved to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision. “Watch where you’re going ars…, Sera? Vernon?”

“Prika?” Sera asked, spreading her wings wide and leaning back to halt in midair. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m heading towards the eastern continent,” Prika said. “I heard I’ll find a mate there.”

“You know this is the western continent, right?” Vernon asked. “Instead of flying west all the way around the world, you could’ve just flown east, you know?”

“I know! I’m not dumb,” Prika said. “Okay, so I followed old man Nova to the western continent first because there was nothing to do at home, and now that I’m here, I’m flying east.”

Vernon raised an eyebrow. “But at this point, it’d be faster to fly west to get to the eastern continent. You could fly directly there instead of passing through the central continent again.”

“Yeah, but then I’d have to fly through that backwater continent between the western and eastern continent, and there’s no way in heck I’m doing that,” Prika said. “It might take me a bit longer going this way, but it’s worth it.”

“Aren’t you from that so-called backwater continent?” Sera asked. “You don’t want to say hi to everyone?”

Prika rolled her eyes. “And embarrass myself? Hello, I left to find a mate a few centuries ago. If I turn up back home empty-handed, what are they going to think of me? I’d be a total loser in their happily mated, damn, cursed, stupid, bright, happy eyes.”

Vernon cleared his throat. “Your anger is showing.”

“It’s not anger,” Prika said, wrinkling her snout. “It’s centuries of bottled-up resentment. There’s a difference in degrees of magnitude.”

“Have a cookie,” Vernon said, holding the mithril jar in his paws towards Prika.

Prika blinked and reached forward, lifting the lid. Her claws clacked against the side of the jar a few times, but she managed to retrieve a cookie that was almost the size of her snout. She placed the lid back on and munched on the cookie, sprinkling crumbs down to the ground. Her eyes lit up. “Ooh, this is pretty good.” She popped the rest of the cookie into her mouth. “Are you bringing these to share with everyone down there?”

“The annoying trio asked me to bring the cookie jar,” Vernon said. “But I suppose everyone can have some as well? They’re not mine, so I don’t know.”

“You offered me a cookie that didn’t belong to you and you weren’t sure if you could share?” Prika asked, her eyes widening.

Vernon cleared his throat. “Well, it seemed like you needed it. If anyone asks, Alora took it earlier. They’ll all believe that even if she protests.”

“Thanks, Vernon,” Prika said. “You’re the best. Okay, I think I can”—her stomach rumbled like thunder—“continue to the eastern continent.” She wet her lips with her tongue, her eyes sneaking down towards the cookie jar. “Or … I can wait until after this gathering to go.”